


Convincing

by clearascountryair



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Love, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearascountryair/pseuds/clearascountryair
Summary: When Mack won't stop referring to AIDA as a "sexbot," Fitz feels obligated to clarify some things for Jemma





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. I wrote this on the train. In public. My life is in shambles. 4x09 coda challenge for TFSN. Beta'd by @agentcalliope. She's the best.

By the time Daisy had finished with the director, and Jemma had finished ("FINALLY") filing her report, neither could wait to join the others in the kitchen.  They could hear their teammates voices all the way down the hall.

"Honestly, Fitz," Mack was saying.  "I'm just really hoping he designed it before you came along.  It's creepy."

" _You're_ the one so into the robot movies.  Aren't androids meant to be unrealistically beautiful?"

"As long as by android, you mean unrealistically, creepy hot sexbot, than yeah.  Sure."

"That's the whole point, though, isn't it?"

"That it's a sexbot?"

"That she's so beautiful, something has to be off about her.  Maybe Radcliffe didn't do it intentionally, but Aida is--was--so beautiful that it's not just 'Oh, she's too beautiful to be human,' but 'Wait, she's actually too beautiful to be human and it's a bit terrifying.'"

"So there's a line where beautiful gets too beautiful?" Mack asked as Jemma and Daisy entered the doorway, making eye contact with Jemma.  "How the hell do you draw a line like that?"

Jemma silently stepped forward as Fitz spoke.  

"It's like a parabola.  And then we're ending this because I feel like I'm objectifying every woman I've ever known."

Elena snorted from the table.  "You are."

"So we're finishing up. It's like a parabola--increasing beauty until the peak.  Then, as all individual features get increasingly perfect--too symmetrical, too proportional, whatever that means--it gets creepy.  Like, society--well, blokes I guess--decided that beauty equals perfection.  But there's a point when you get too perfect and the beauty curve goes down.  I mean look at her face--" he held up Aida's decapitated head--"She's too creepy to be beautiful.  She hasn't even got freckles!"

Daisy burst out laughing, causing Fitz to drop Aida's head in surprise.

"Oh, my god, Fitz, you've got to stop or you're gonna get Jemma off and it's gonna be awkward for everyone."

Jemma blushed furiously, but Fitz could only laugh and reached out to pulled her to him.  Beneath her flushed smile and laughter, he could see her day upon her face and knew she fared no better than he did.  He kissed her cheek as Daisy cooed.  Mack rolled his eyes and returned to sit over next to Elena.

“I’ve never seen that one,” he said, looking at her phone over her shoulder.

She looked at him and grinned.  “We could watch that.”

Jemma raised her head from Fitz’s shoulder.  “Ooh!  Are you watching a movie?”

Daisy cleared her throat.  “Did you just say that you were too tired to even think about doing anything but sleeping?”

Jemma cocked her head.  “No?”

“Jemma,” Daisy said slowly.  “You said ‘Wow, Daisy, I am so tired I can’t do anything when we get back except sleep.’”  She paused for a moment.  “‘Or get laid.’”

“I don’t know—“

Fitz stood up, lifting Jemma with him.  “I’m exhausted,” he said.  “Let’s go to bed.”

Jemma looked at him, confused.  “Okay?”

He grabbed her hand and led her from the room.

“Get it, girl!” came Daisy’s voice as soon as they were in the hall, followed a moment later by Elena’s,

“I don’t know if you’re talking to me or to her.”

Jemma gasped and turned to Fitz, who laughed as he released her hand to wrap his arm around her waist.  

"It was a recent development.  You didn't miss much."

"Since when?"

"Just last night, I think."  He pulled her close.  "You alright?"

Jemma shrugged.  "Well, I feel like some horrible cockblocker now."

He kissed the top of her head.  "You know what I mean."

She leaned heavily on him as he unlocked their door.  "Are you?"

He brought his other arm over enveloping her in a tight hug.  "I just want to wash it all off me, you know?"

She nodded into his neck.  "I can help."

Wordlessly, they stepped into their room, each completely leaning on the other as they made their way into the bathroom.  Fitz turned on the water as Jemma brought the towels to the hooks next to the shower and, in their continued silence, each undressed themselves.  It was only when the bathroom had completely filled with steam that they finally stepped into the shower, and only after he rubbed the conditioner into Jemma's hair that Fitz finally broke the silence.  

"We do the best we can," he said quietly.

"I know."  Her voice was almost silent in the stream of water.  

" _You_ do the best you can."

"So do you."  She turned in his arms.  "I will tell you, you know, when it's okay to feel guilty.  You don't today."

"I can't think of anything you've ever done--"

"Well, that's bullshit."

Fitz kissed her forehead.  "I mean, you do sometimes forget to let me know we're out of the good tea.  That's worth feeling utterly miserable about."

She smiled.  "I love you."

"Love you, too."

Jemma leaned her head back to rinse the conditioner out of her hair and smiled when she felt Fitz's finger hovering over her face.  

"Are you tracing my freckles?"

"Maybe?"

He let his finger touch her skin, drifting across her nose and cheeks, down her neck and across her chest.  She let out contented sigh as he spiralled his finger across what she assumed had to be the freckles on her right breast.  

"Amusing yourself?"

Fitz hummed.  "The fact that there are such perfectly freckled boobs in the world that I have access to makes me question my atheism."

Jemma's laughter was cut off as Fitz bent his knees and began pressing hot, opened mouth kisses to her breast.

"You," she breathed, "You're just skipping straight to the fun parts, aren't you?"

"I'm just returning to where we left off."

She laughed, tangling her fingers in his hair.   They had returned to their room the previous night, tipsy and exhausted and excited to finally be going to bed at the same.  She had simultaneous teased and reassured him that no one but her had noticed just how much he was enjoying the way her fingers had danced not-so-innocently across his thigh when they were still in the rec room.  They had successfully rid themselves of their clothes and fallen into bed, and woke the next morning still naked, still on top of their covers, and still with his head between her breasts.  

She supposed, then, that this was an acceptable continuation.

"Are you done?"

He ran his tongue across her nipple.  "Not even close."

Were it not for his mouth on her breast, she would have rolled her eyes.  "With the shower."

He straightened up, despite her whine, and reached pass her to turn off the water.  Grinning she tangled both hands in his hair and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Christ, you're gonna kill us one day."

She laughed, kissing him hard as he tried to navigate their way out of the shower, walking backwards out of the bathroom until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down, holding her firmly in his lap.  She ground down against him, causing him to throw back his head and sputter as her wet hair got in his mouth.  He snorted.  

"What?"

"Just...well," he dropped his voice in an attempt to sound as husky as possible.  "You're so wet, Jemma."

She burst out laughing, dropping her head to his shoulder.  

"Oh, come on, no witty retort?"

She shook her head against his neck.  "I'd talk about how badly I want you and how I'll just _die_ if you're not in me soon, but..."  She reached between them, guiding him to her entrance.  

"And you said I was skipping all the fun stuff!"

Jemma shushed him before sinking down and, for a moment, both were silently, just breathing each other.  Jemma shut her eyes and didn't move.  It had been so long, too long since they had been together.   Slowly she began rocking her hips, only to stall when she felt Fitz's hand too delicately on her cheek.

"Are you crying?"

She shook her head.  "No!"

"Yes, you are!  You’re crying.  During sex."

She opened her eyes to look at him.  "I missed you."

He smiled, pulling her down for a searing kiss.  "I missed you, too."   

He grabbed her hips, grinning against her lips as she began to move faster, lifting her hips and dropping down onto him, in a familiar, if somewhat frantic rhythm.

“Can I tell you something?” Fitz asked, letting his hands slip from her hips to her ass.  Jemma only nodded.

“I hate that this needs to be said,” Fitz began, his voice breathless, “ but after what Mack said about her being a sexbot—”

“Oh, my god.”

“And even if she were capable of that—”

“Fitz, please, you don’t need to—”

“I really don’t plan on having sex with anyone besides you for the rest of my life.”

For a moment, Jemma stared at him, tears welling in her eyes.  Then, before he could say more, she put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him so he was lying down as she rode him with as much intensity as she could muster.  When Fitz grunted beneath her, his thrusts becoming less controlled, she dropped her head to whisper in his ear, “It’ll be a lot more convincing when you’re not about to come.”

He might have otherwise laughed, but instead grabbed her hair and kissed her hard as he came inside her.  She slowed her speed before rolling off him.

“You didn’t—“

“It’s fine.”

“Bullshit.”  With a groan, Fitz turned on his side to face her.  She looked beautiful, lying on her back, eyes have closed, glistening in a mixture of water and sweat.  

She hummed when he reached his hand between her legs, spreading them to give him full access.  He circled her clit with his thumb, kissing her shoulder.  Her breathing fell in sharp gasps as his lips trailed across her collarbone and down to her breasts, sucking her hardened nipple between his lips as he brought his free hand up to attend to her other breast.

" _Fitz_?"

He hummed around her, making her gasp.

"Just for the record—oh, _god_ —I don't plan on having sex with anyone besides you for the rest of my life either."

He chuckled against her skin as he kissed his way down her stomach.  

"You'd be a lot more convincing," he said, slipping two fingers suddenly inside her and curling them just right, "if I wasn't about to make you come."

He dropped his head between her legs, lapping  at her clit with his tongue, pumping his fingers in and out of her.   He brought his other hand from her breast to cup her ass and pull her closer to him.  He continued as she cried out, her whole body shuddering as she came, tangling her fingers in his hair.  When her body stilled, he planted a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh before kissing his way back up her body and rolling over to lie beside her.  She found his hand and squeezed it, letting him pull her to him.  She pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

“You smell like sex.”

He snorted.  “I wonder, Jemma, why that could possibly be.”

She grinned and draped her arm across his chest.  “I’m serious, though, Fitz.  I don’t want to ever have sex with someone who’s not you again.  And I definitely know I’ll never come with someone who’s not you.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded.  “You’ve ruined quality orgasms for me.  And masturbation.”

Fitz laughed and kissed the top of her head.  “Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you.  Just, no more sexbots, okay?”

“Sh—It wasn’t a sexbot.”

“Technology and sex just really shouldn’t mix.”

“So that new vibrator I bought you?”

“Ugh!” Jemma sighed.  “How about this: for the rest of my life, I will never have sex with anything with a face except you.”

Fitz’s whole body shook as he tried to contain his laughter.  “Jemma, that is the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not a declaration of love,” she retorted.  “I’ve done that already.  It’s a promise that I won’t build an anatomically correct robot to replace you.”

Fitz stared at her as nuzzled into his chest.  “I’ll never have sex with anyone or anything but you, for the rest of my life,” he said.  “And I love you.”

Jemma smiled, letting her eyes flutter shut.  “I love you, too,” she said.  “Even without the mind-blowing orgasms.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, yawning.  “Probably.”

“Good.  I’ll have to think on it and let you know.”

She laughed.  “Goodnight, Fitz.”

And, the next morning, when he woke to her soft kisses as she climbed on top of him, both made their positions clear: They’d still love each other without the mind-blowing orgasms.

But they certainly were an added bonus.

 


End file.
